


A Tower

by Ladyoftarth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Canon, Spoilers, post a dance with dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyoftarth/pseuds/Ladyoftarth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man holding Oathkeeper  kicked Brienne’s legs out from under her.  She went down hard with a cry.  She looked feeble and weak. All the fight in her had been extinguished.</p><p>Catelyn moved in closer, a pungent scent of death breezed over him as she spoke.  “Your life for hers Kingslayer. Choose.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Might regret posting this in the morning... little too much cab sav this evening.  
> I've been sitting on this chapter for a few days. Not sure where this one will go my friends. Please do let me know what you think.

Brienne stood like a tower in the middle of the barren muddy field, its crops long burnt and dead, on her back were the crudely painted words ‘Kingslayers Whore’.

Jaime was bound and gagged, helplessly tied to a massive oak, a noose dangled from a branch above him, he lifted his face to watch her, his handsome features marred with a busted lip and one swollen eye, with blurred vision he could make out the words “Kingslayers Whore”, misspelled and ugly scrawled across her back. He couldn’t help but wonder for whose eyes the cruel joke was meant; he was willing to bet a dozen golden dragons that more than half these fools couldn’t even read.

She had led him here.  

She’s reaping what she has sown. Jaime thought bitterly, pushing away the nagging pull of sympathy he could feel rising up inside him. As much as he wanted to blame Brienne for the situation they now found themselves, he knew he had helped her plant the seeds of their demise.

“Sword or noose whore?”

The brother demanded again, the thing that had been Catelyn Stark stood in judgment beside him. Catelyn gestured to another man tethered to the tree by a noose.  Jaime did not recognize him, but clearly Brienne knew the poor lout.  The quartered log he was precariously standing on was kicked out from beneath him.  His legs kicked uselessly as he struggled against the rope squeezing his throat closed.  It would be a long and ugly death.

“Please!” Brienne pleaded for his life. “Sword!” She screamed.

Another brother delivered his blade into the hanged man's chest, relieving him of his agony and his life.

Brienne knelt down to the ground gasping as if she’d been punched.

A boy was brought forth, placed on a log, as the rope was tightened around his neck a small squeak escaped his lips.

A child? Jaime thought, shocked at the depths this motley crew had reached.

“No, no, no!I brought Jaime, you promised you would hear us out. He gave me the sword to save your daughters.  Please! I made a vow!” Brienne spilled, her voice panicking.

“Who’s life is it to be Brienne?” Catelyn Stark’s strained voice asked.

The poor wench stood suddenly mute, an agonized expression set upon her scarred face, blue eyes watering. She looked to the noose above him, she looked to the young boy ready to be hanged, and then back to his face again. He glared at her.  She was to deliver his death, whatever her decision may be; he damn well was not going to make it easy on her.

He had come like a fool, trusting her, unbelievable as the story had been about the Hound and the Stark girl; he had come, trusting in the honorable Maid of Tarth. He would have scoffed and laughed if it wasn’t for the gag in his mouth.

“My Lady.”  Brienne turned back towards the slight figure of Catelyn Stark.  Stoneheart they called her.

Why bother? No pleas will reach this dead thing, Jaime thought ruefully.

Yet the dumb wench carried on.

“He has changed!” Brienne’s voice broke in distress.

Catelyn silently raised her chin, a silent command to kill them both.

“Take me instead! Take me I beg of you.” Brienne’s voice broke in distress as the men approached Jaime and the boy.

Jaime struggled with the ropes that bound him, a useless effort.

Brienne looked defeated. Her face was hollow and all shades of death, circles darkened her eyes, the bandage had moved from her cheek revealing an angry infected wound, clumsily stitched together.  

Brienne spoke quietly. “Give me my sword, he deserves a better blade.”

Jaime slunk against the tree.  Her words had been like a sword through his heart.

She stood and made her way to the tree, towering over him as he was tied helpless to the oak, above him its branches littered with nooses, he looked up at her, daring her silently to look him in the eye before she did her dishonourable deed.  The sword was brought forth, the deathly beautiful blade he had given her, she held out her hand ready to accept the instrument of his death, but before the brother could place Oathkeeper in her palm Catelyn demanded he halt.

“Take his gag out.” She croaked.

One of her men roughly pulled the dry rags from his mouth, his jaw ached with relief.

“Restrain his whore.”

The man holding Oathkeeper  kicked Brienne’s legs out from under her.  She went down hard with a cry.  She looked feeble and weak. All the fight in her had been extinguished.

Catelyn moved in closer, a pungent scent of death breezed over him as she spoke.  “Your life for hers Kingslayer. Choose.”

Jaime smirked, his eyes returning to meet the undead Catelyn Stark, he glanced at Brienne, she knelt in the muck her eyes closed, tears falling, Oathkeepers blade pressed to her throat, one tendril of blood slowly crawling down her freckled neck.

“Be done with it.” Jaime said spitting out the words. Catelyn’s lips twitched, not into a smile, but something that hinted she knew his answer before she had made her offer.  “My life for hers, and swear it on whatever shred of honour you have left in your black dead heart.” Watching her smug expression flee her grey dead face pleased him immensely.

“Jaime no!” Brienne cried.

“Shutup wench.” Jaime ignored her pleas and demanded. “Let her go.”

Catelyn’s strange red eyes considered him.  Her face unreadable she finally spoke. “Tie her to the tree.”

Jaime breathed a sigh of relief as Oathkeeper was removed from Brienne’s throat.  She was roughly dragged to the tree and tied beside him.

Jaime couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of finding himself in this scenario again bound to a tree with Brienne of Tarth. Brienne looked at him in amazement as he chuckled.

“You fool.  Why?”

“What a gracious ‘thank-you’ for saving your life… again.”  Jaime remarked.

She had no answer for that.


	2. Words of Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sharply inhaled at his touch.
> 
> He could say something, words of forgiveness, words to carry on when his death was done, words of absolution. There wasn't much time, he didn't want her to wallow in guilt the rest of her days as he was certain she would.

Lady Stoneheart and her men were conspiring a few paces away, the red priest Thoros seemed to be at the center of the discussion.  The man looked gaunt in his tattered and faded robes, no longer red in colour, but a deep pink, it reminded Jaime of the colour Brienne’s dress had been when she was forced into the bear pit. Thoros looked a shadow of the fat jolly drinking and whoring companion of King Robert. As if drawn by his stare the red priest glanced at Jaime, his eyes quickly flickering away.

Although he could not see Brienne’s face, her irregular breathing indicated she was doing her best to calm herself, willing herself not to weep again.

As angry as he had been with Brienne, the nearness to her, and the state of distress she was in had ebbed his fury. Brienne was young, she was fierce, and a capable fighter, but she had been unprepared for the realities of a war torn kingdom. He had sent her away in anger, he had been impulsive and stupid.  It had not been her he had been furious with.  It was himself, and now he felt sorrow for putting her in the situation they now found themselves . His fingers were near hers, dirty finger nails on large calloused hands, large but gentle as he remembered the night he had spilled all his secrets to her in those baths at Harrenhal. She had cared for him then. He crept his fingers over to hers barely managing to encircle his smallest finger with hers.

She sharply inhaled at his touch.

He could say something, words of forgiveness, words to carry on when his death was done, words of absolution. There wasn’t much time, he didn’t want her to wallow in guilt the rest of her days as he was certain she would.

Before he could say anything Brienne whispered.

“I would not have killed you,”

“You’ll forgive me, but the request for the sword had me believing otherwise,”

“I was going to fight them, kill as many as I could. I would have died with a sword in my hand, you needn't have offered yourself,” Brienne sounded mournful. “And now…”

 _Now you’ll have to watch me die._                         

“If you had not brought me here you could have saved yourself from this hardship _you_ are about to endure. You’ll forgive my lack of sympathy.” It was quite the contrary to what he had intended to say to her, but his frustration was clouding his thinking.

“They wouldn’t listen to me before they would have killed us all if I had not brought you.”

“Which one is he?” Jaime nodded towards the boy tied to the tree opposite them, a noose dangled above where he sat like a promise. The boy was a small looking sad creature, his dark eyes darting from their captors and back to Brienne.  It was clear the small boy cared for the wench, and she him.

“Poddrick is my squire.  Hunt was… someone I knew.” Emotion strained her words again.

 _How well I wonder?_ A surprising stab of jealousy hitting him in the guts.

“She hasn’t killed us yet.  There may be hope.”

 _Now why is that?_  Jaime thought curiously.  They had made no pause to impale the hanging man named Hunt. He spied the group huddled around Stoneheart, they seemed to be disagreeing.  It wasn’t the first batch of men to argue over killing him.

“I’m sorry,” Brienne said.

“Hush.” Jaime commanded trying to listen to the words being bandied about, hoping to find a point to use in favour of saving their lives. The effort was proving useless, he could not discern what they were saying.

Thoros broke ranks with the men, striding over to where Brienne and Jaime were bound.  Three more trailing closely behind.  Stoneheart kept her place in the near distance.

Jaime’s finger tightened around Brienne’s.

“Jaime Lannister do you willingly give your life in exchange for this womans?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

_Because she is Brienne._

“Because she is more competent to complete a vow that was promised in exchange for my life, and a Lannister always pays his debts.”

“For this you give your own life?”

“Are you drunk? I’ve answered your question now be done with it.”

Thoros looked to Stoneheart, his hands upturned in a placating gesture.

Stoneheart turned away silently, retreating to her cave.

Thoros nodded towards the two.  

A large man, dagger in hand snarled at them as he knelt before Jaime.  The silver point flashed menacingly.  Jaime looked his killer in the eye, wondering where he planned to bury his steel. _Heart? Throat?_

Brienne inhaled sharply.

The man’s dagger went low and dug into their ropes, quickly sawing away their binds.  

“Go. Take the boy with you, do not turn back.  Find the girls or she will find you. You will not escape her justice for a second time Kingslayer.”

He thought of saying ‘for the third time’, but bit his tongue.

Jaime gathered Brienne about her waist, pulling her up from the ground.  

“We will need our horses.” Jaime was bewildered, but had his wits enough to  know they could not travel far with Brienne’s injuries.

“And my sword.” Brienne added, her voice a challenge.  She was not going to leave without it.

Thoros nodded to the men who lingered. “Cut the boy loose,  bring the lady her sword, and two horses. We keep your gold.

The red priest pointed to Brienne, his eyes met Jaime’s. “She saved you here today Lannister. I suggest you tread carefully, the night is dark and full of terrors."

Thoros turned towards the cave, his brothers trailing behind, seemingly disappointed they would not have necks to hang.  

Brienne rested a weary hand on her squire’s shoulder, and glanced towards the hanged man named Hunt. “We can’t leave him like that.”

“Yes we can, and we will.” Jaime pulled her along to the horses. Blessedly for once the stubborn mule did not fight him.

Mounting their horses Podrick and Brienne rode double ahead, Jaime kicked the side of his horse quickening its pace, anxious to leave another narrowly escaped death behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure I want to write much more about "what happens next".  
> I just wanted to write what I thought could be a scenario that might get them both out of this situation. Jaime proving he has changed by offering his life freely in exchange for Brienne's.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
